


World's End, Winter's Beginning

by Free_birdy



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Lucy and Arya would be great friends, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Free_birdy/pseuds/Free_birdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy and Arya never expected to be the only two women in the Brotherhood, but then again, no one expected the Wall to fall or the Red Wedding to happen. Now they struggle to survive: raiding for supplies, fighting Lannister rule and killing White Walkers...as if being a teenager wasn't hard enough. Told alternating between Lucy's POV and Arya's POV. Rated M for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy remembers how life used to be

**Lucy: The Beginning**

_**As the world falls apart around us** _

_**All we can do is hold on** _

All stories have beginnings, but when stories merge, when one absorbs another, it becomes difficult to tell what's the beginning of one tale and the end of another. My story is no different: a narrative inside of an adventure, wrapped in an anecdote served with a side of tragedy. Actually, make that a course of tragedy. Screw that- tragedy is the whole meal. My whole life has been a tragedy since the Red Wedding. Maybe that's where I should begin...but then again, it all started long before that.

The Starks were good friends with my family. My father, Ned Stark, and Robert Baratheon had all been fraternity brothers. They were hazed together, played together, partied together, almost failed college together- they were inseparable. After college, Ned and my dad built themselves a small business empire while Robert relied on his looks, his family money, and his booze. They were some of the worlds most powerful men- drowning in money and dabbling in politics. Eventually, they all got married- Robert twice- and had a bunch of kids.

My father and mother had four: Peter, Susan, Edmund and finally me, Lucy.

Robert tied my dad for number of kids; one with his first wife, a boy named Gendry, and three with his second wife: Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.

Ned beat them both with six kids: five from his wife and one...not. Oldest to youngest, they were Robb, Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon.

So I grew up both rich and with "built-in" friends- my siblings and my father's friends' children. People used to tell me how lucky I was, but truth be told, it wasn't that great. Robb, Gendry, Jon, Peter, Edmund- even little Bran, Tommen and Rickon- would wrestle and run around. The older boys would play basketball or football, always Jon and Rob verses Peter and Edmund, with Gendry joining whatever side he felt like that day. Bran, Tommen and Rickon would watch on, join in or start their own little game. Arya and I were always desperate to play with them, but none of the mothers would let us. We used to try and appeal to the fathers, but they would shake their heads in unison and Robert would tell us to go play with Sansa and Susan.

Sansa and Susan: now there was a pair made in heaven. Both were poised, soft-spoken, delicate young ladies. Company parties were filled with good natured arguments of which of the two was more lovely, more charming, more beautiful. They spent their school nights studying studiously and their weekends at school events and parties. They could french braid each others hair in two minutes flat, knew the latest trends in makeup and fashion and spent hours entertaining Myrcella, playing princess and pop star.

Since we couldn't play with the boys, would rather die than play with the girls-and both of us hated Joffrey- that left Arya and I to play on our own. While Susan and Sansa were Myrcella's ladies-in-waiting, Arya and I were brave knights rescuing the villagers from dragons. We would practice sword fighting with sticks, wade through the nearby creek and see who could climb trees faster. My mother wouldn't let us play with the boys because they were too rough, yet it was Arya and I who came into the house filthy and bloody. Even as a child, the irony wasn't lost on me.

And life pretty much went on, more or less like that, for most of my childhood. Then Robert died. I was ten, Arya was eight.

Apparently he and Cersei (his second wife and major bitch) had been fighting quite a lot. Robert hadn't really been a one-woman sort of guy since Gendry's mom died and Cersei was creepily close to her family, especially her twin brother. So Robert had been sleeping around and Cersei had been...well, herself and Robert had turned to his good old hooch , drinking himself to death. Though I had never really liked Robert, he was one of my father's best friends, so the loss was devastating to our family. I still remember Robert's funeral- it was the only time I'd ever seen my father cry. To make things worse, Cersei refused to take custody of Gendry and he was sent to live with some uncle I never heard of. He was twelve at the time.

Though it was sad, Robert's death seemed insignificant. The only change was that we didn't see Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen anymore. No one had heard a word from Gendry. Our lives moved forward. Arya and I saw our first PG-13 movie with our fathers. Robb won a full-ride scholarship for football and was engaged by his junior year of university. Jon joined the military, much to Arya's great sorrow. Susan was Homecoming Queen and Sansa was Prom Queen. Bran fell while climbing and broke both his legs, leaving everyone to wonder if he would ever walk again (the doctors told the Starks "only time would tell").

It's true what they say- day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different.

I watched the world slowly fell to pieces around me; whispers of White Walkers filled the air, but everyone shushed the subject and pretended things were normal because that's what you were supposed to do. People began to disappear around The Wall, but Sansa and Susan had their double date nights. Conspiracies and blame flew about, but Ned and my father watched football like it was any other Sunday. I was beginning to go mad, believing I was the only one who felt something… something just wrong, deep in my gut when late one night, Arya confided in me she feel so afraid, but she didn't know why or of what. I tried to comfort her, but I couldn't- for the first time, I realized I was terrified of whatever was happening to our world.

Then came the Red Wedding.

I honestly don't remember much. One minute I had been dancing with Peter, the next, gunshots filled the air. Peter threw me to the ground. My father fell, his chest opened by lead. Edmund grabbed me, a man grabbed Susan. I tripped over Robb Stark's body, Rickon was being hauled out over Peter's shoulders. I found Arya in the hallway, looking distantly at the body that lay in front of her with a dinner knife sticking out of the chest. I grabbed her hand- there was blood on it. Somehow we made it to the car: Peter, Edmund, Arya, Rickon and I. Peter sped away, crying and trying to explain that the Lannisters must have taken control of the government and wanted to eliminate any competition or resistant to their power before it conspiracies weren't conspiracies anymore, they were fact.

A sudden shift in control could only mean emergency protocol had been activated; there could only be one cause. The Wall had been breached. The White Walkers were coming for us all.

I was fourteen years old.


	2. How The Hell Did We Get Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya contemplatives her life while Lucy is on a raid without her (stupid broken rib).

** Arya: How The Hell Did We Get Here **

 

**_Now I gotta level with you baby I am lost and alone_ **

**_At the end of this hallway maybe this house of leaves is a home_ **

_“Do you ever think about what’s the beginning?” Lucy’s voice echoed softly through the dark. I rolled over in bed, turning from the wall to face Lucy’s bed across the room._

__

_“Well, it depends on who you ask. Some say it started with a Big Bang, others-”_

__

_“No. Not that beginning.” Lucy huffed, “Our beginning.”_

__

_“Well, it started when mommy and daddy kissed and then they-”_

__

_“ARYA!” She hissed quietly and I couldn’t help but snort, “You know that’s not what I mean.” I could tell she was scowling and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing._

__

_“What do you mean, Lu?” I heard her take a breath, hold it, and then release it as a sigh._

_“I guess I’m not sure.” Lucy finally responded. It was silent before she let out a snort of laughter, “But I definitely didn’t mean that.” Silence filled the room for a few long moments before Lucy continued, “I guess...I mean...do you ever look at your life and think, ‘Well shit, how did I get here?’”_

__

_“No. But then again, I try not to look at my life too hard.” I admitted._

__

That conversation had taken place over two weeks ago, and yet it still rattled around in my brain like a loose bolt. And now that I was basically bed-ridden, it was all I could think about. Lucy’s words echoed in my head, “Well shit, how did I get here?”

If it were ten years ago, I would have been a normal sixteen-year-old. I would have been visiting Sansa at University or seeing Robb and his wife (they would have a had a kid or two by now). Jon would be back from his tour of duty, probably a star or Purple-Heart on his chest. I would have been focused on school or sports. I would have been talking to my best friend about the way my stomach did flips when ever I caught sight of Gendry.

But it wasn’t ten years ago,  and I wasn’t a normal teenage girl. I was Arya Stark, the She-Wolf- I howled in the face of my enemies and laughed in the face of death.  If I ever saw Sansa again, it would be to rescue her and Susan from the corrupt, failing government that held them hostage. Robb and his wife had been dead for four years, I watched them die. My focus wasn’t school, or friends, or that stupid, bull-headed boy; it was surviving.

The struggle to survive started when the Wall fell. When the White Walkers invaded and the Lannisters had my family murdered. The few of us that had survived the massacre (now deemed the Red Wedding) had only done so by dumb luck. Luck was the reason Peter was able to throw Lucy to the ground, both barely missing a bullet. Luck was the reason the lead had flow over my head and I had grabbed the dinner knife that would save my life. Luck was the reason Peter had been given the car keys hours earlier by his father.

I barely remember the days we spent on the run. Peter, driving for miles and miles with no destination, always looking behind us. Rickon crying in the back seat, desperately wanting his now dead mother. Edmund sitting numbly in the passenger seat, his mother’s blood splattered on his clothing. Lucy asking in a whisper if I had killed the man she found me standing over. I had.

We eventually ran out of electric charge and emptied reserve gas tank (if the Pevensies hadn’t owned an electric car we wouldn’t have been able to drive far enough- we would have been caught for sure. The gratefulness I now feel for the stupid electric car is infinite). Peter managed to maneuver the car under the cover of a forest, muttering something about staying hidden. We sat for hours: no where to go, no one to trust and no hope.

It was almost by accident we found the Brotherhood Without Banners. Or rather, they found us. Lem was speeding towards their fortress at Hollow Hill (the Brotherhood had been preparing for anarchy for decades. People believed they were crazy- but damn the fuckers- they had been right) when he saw the glare off our tail lights. He would have just driven on by if his companion hadn’t recognized the car.

None of us had seen Gendry in four years, and yet, by some sheer act of the Gods, there he was. And with him, the miracle of hope. Of a way to survive, a place to call home- not that this rebuilt, reinforced castle was warm or cozy. But fuck, I’d call an abandoned outhouse in the woods home if it kept us safe from White Walkers.

The hallways of Hollow Hill suddenly filled with talking and laughter, pulling me from my reverie. I pushed myself to my elbows as the knob turned on my bedroom door. It opened to reveal Lucy, my roommate and best friend. She appeared to be struggling to balance as she hauled several bags onto her bed across our shared room. “The raid went well, I take it?” I nodded my head over to overflowing bounty. Lucy turned, grinning like mad.

“You could say that!”

“I can’t believe I couldn’t go!” I huffed, unable to keep the envy from my voice. “This stupid rib and Harwin being an overprotective fuc-”

“Arya, you can’t go on a raid when you’ve just barely recovered from breaking your rib.” Lucy said gently, but rolled her eyes anyway. “Besides, you would have hated it. There was only one guard and he was easily seduced.” Lucy wiggled her eyebrows as she released her hair from its high ponytail. “Within three minutes, his hand was up my shirt and then my knife was in his back.”

“One guard.” I sighed- that would have been boring. “So not an artillery fort as we had hoped.”

Lucy shook her head, “No.” Her disappointment showing for only a moment before her face split into a wide grin, “But those Lannister bastards didn’t leave us with nothing. Food, fuel, medicines, even clothing! It was like robbing a dead Walmart!”

“Hence the ridiculous amount of personal booty?” When raids went well, everyone was allowed to take some things for themselves. The better the raid, the more items you could claim for yourself.

“Yes, that and Lem… well, he really didn’t want to take stock of “feminine products”” She put in the air quotes with her fingers Lem was in charge of stock and supply, keeping track of everything in storage from food to weapons. Lucy smirked and shook her head “ I swear, that bloody Lemoncloak had never heard the word tampon before.” She began to unpack the bags, placing boxes and boxes of the dreaded tampons and pads in an empty cupboard in the corner of our room.

“Well what did you expect?” I smirked at the mental image of a Lem blushing as red as Harwin’s hair when Lucy handed him a lifetime supply of tampons to put into storage. I couldn’t really blame him though- Lucy and I were the only two women in the Brotherhood, so periods weren’t exactly a common discussion topic.

“But the spoils get better!” Lucy grinned at me before flipping bags upside, spilling the contents onto her bed. Fresh t-shirts, jeans, socks and heaps of other clothing came out.

“We can actually have clean underwear now instead of having to wear it inside-out.” I laughed, catching my friends enthusiasm. Lucy was called The Lioness, due to her fierceness when she had fought Jaime Lannister (and had fucking cut off his hand, I may add) and yet she looked like the girl I saw on Christmas morning each year of our childhood.

“That’s not even the best part.” Lucy fished through the sizable pile before throwing a bra my way. “That one should actually fit!” Lucy wiggled her eyebrows and I stuck out my tongue. Puberty had hit me like a train over the past two years; I turned from a scrawny, horse-faced fourteen- year-old to a sixteen-year-old young woman. My new curves were a great sense of discomfort and Lucy knew it too. Despite her teasing, I was touched by the gesture and I couldn’t help but laugh when she began to rain down all sorts of clothing upon my bed.

I grabbed a fistful of t-shirts and panties, whipping them at her head. She fired back with the bluest jeans I’d ever seen. Soon clothing, blankets, pillows, even a box of tampons lay around the room with Lucy and I laughing on the floor. Glancing over at her, I let a thought slip past my lips, “Is this what it’s like to be normal?”

Lucy stared at the ceiling, her eyes glazing over, “I don’t think we’ve ever been, or ever will be normal.”

I shrugged, she was probably right- even if the Wall hadn’t fallen, or our families been murdered , or hell, even if Robert hadn’t died- we would have never been considered normal. Lucy and I had always been odd ones out; too much of tomboys to play with girls, but too much female anatomy to play with boys. We would never have been normal teenage girls.

  
But Sansa could have been normal. Or Susan. Or Peter, Edmund, even Gendry. But none of us could ever been normal now. I heard Lucy sigh as she pushed herself to her feet before extending me a hand. I took it, ignoring the way my rib mildly protested. We got to work, silently tidying the room as reality crashed back down on us.


	3. Fighting To Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole gang goes on a raid and Gendry acts a little too protective.

**Lucy: Fighting To Live**

_**Fighting to live is the only fight I've got left in me** _

“I asked you to talk her out of going.” Gendry hissed under his breath, his eyes trained on Arya’s figure, crouching just a few feet ahead.

A small group of us were surveying the seemingly empty warehouse, Gendry taking lead. As bountiful as the last raid had been, we were still low on artillery. Not dangerously low, more...uncomfortably low. After getting the all-clear from Harwin, Arya had jumped at the opportunity to go on the raid. I know she had felt useless when her rib was broken; I was glad she was finally able to do things again, not only because she was my friend and her health was important to me, but because she had been so whiny during the last few weeks and I was so tired of her complaining about everything. If she had been ordered to stay on bedrest for another week, I would have snapped. Gendry, on the other hand, was less than thrilled when she had announced she was coming. He had been hell-bent on stopping her, finally coming to me, asking- no- begging me to talk her out of it.

“She could get hurt; why didn’t you talk her out of going?” Gendry’s accusing gaze turned on me. His comment made me feel a little indignant; if he, Harwin and Lem couldn’t talk her going, how the hell did they expect me to? I brushed off the feeling with a small snort and an eye roll.

 

“Have you met Arya? No one could talk her out of going on a raid, not even me. Besides, her rib is completely, one-hundred percent healed- hell, she probably could have gone on last week’s mission, if you all hadn’t been such overprotective fuc-”

“I just want her safe!” Gendry interjected; I could practically feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. I was taken back; Gendry was always careful about keeping his temper in check, keeping a cool head. (The Baratheons had anger issues, to say the least. Robert used to brag about their family’s motto, “Ours is the Fury!” and Gendry swore up and down he would never become his old man.) I stared at him, wondering what could have possibly gotten him so worked up. Why he had tried so damn hard to make sure Arya stayed back at the fortress? Why was he so angry now?

Then it clicked.

“Oh my god.” I whispered. How had I not seen it? Well, I had seen it, but how had I not noticed? “You’re in love with Arya.” I spoke so quietly, I wasn’t sure Gendry heard me. But I knew he did when his entire body tightened and he refused to look at me. His blush was obvious even in the thick night. Gendry gave a thick swallow and he stood, pretending I hadn’t said anything. “It’s time to move.”

He gave the signal and everyone surged forward silently to surround the desolate building, keeping to the shadows. Two guards patrolled the outside; both seemed oblivious  to our presence. Arya looked back at Gendry, waiting for approval, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. He gave a curt nod of his head- only I could see his jaw was still  tightly clenched. Arya grinned broadly for a moment before she straightened and stumbled out of the shadows, “Help. Help me please!” I held in a laugh at her high, airy voice.

Both guards immediately turned their guns on her and she faked a jump of terror before throwing her hands in the air desperately. “Please, please, don’t shoot!” Her voice cracked and I was once again amazed by how well she could play the damsel in distress.

“You’re out past curfew!” One of the guards stated, mistaking her as a girl from the nearby village, just as we had hoped when we formulated the plan. I forgot the name of it, but I knew it was under Lannister “protection”, its occupants basically held prisoner there under claims of safety from the White Walkers and Outlaws. But as soon its usefulness ran out, gone was the “protection” and the villagers were left to fend for themselves.

“Please...my baby brother, he’s- he’s just two years old. He’s just a baby!  I wasn’t watching and- and he wandered into the woods...please.” Arya began to sob, real tears bursting from her eyes as her chest heaved. The guards looked at each other, both unsure, and then slowly lowered their guns. They shared a shared look, one I’d seen every time Arya or I provided the distraction- pure lust.

One approached her, “Look girl, we’ll let this slide...maybe even help you find your little brat, but... you have to do something for us.” His tone left no room for misinterpretation. I felt Gendry’s body jump slightly next to mine and vaguely wondered if I would have to physically restrain him to keep him for interfering. The guards continued to regard Arya lewdly, while she stared back with innocent doe eyes. The other guard spoke in a gruff voice, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a girl, especially one as pretty as you.”

Arya gave small shudder (the guards mistook it for fear when it was really disgust) before she meekly replied, “I’ll do whatever you want.” The guards grinned sickly and one reached for her. She allowed him to stroke her hair before her eyes flicked from tearful to deadly. “Valar Morghulis.” He didn’t see her reaching for her concealed blade until it was buried in his stomach. She twisted and then ripped the blade out, dropping him and dodging the other guard. She slit his throat before he could even aim his gun.

She kicked their guns towards the woods, before gathering their weapons belts and adding them to the small pile. She signaled us forward; we surrounded the building, each taking a different entrance point. The sound of Gendry breaking down the door echoed through the night, signaling that the battle begun. Arya and I took broke through a window, taking out the surprised guard before he could muster a yell. The warehouse echoed with yells, cusses, and cries of pain- the telltale sounds of combat. Arya and I fought off at least three more guards, but it could have been more. Once the slaughter started, it was hard to keep track of those who fell. The blood pounded in my ears as I stabbed another guard and looked for more enemies. None came. I glance back at Arya, who was standing ready for the next attack. But no one came. My heartbeat receded and I could finally hear again. Silence.

Arya and I glanced at each other, before heading towards the rendezvous point, weapons still drawn. Only Gendry was there- I could see his leg muscles twitch, like he was going to run over to us, to Arya. But he caught himself and simply nodded to us. We were joined by Lem and Jack-Be-Lucky a few minutes later, then Melly and Watty wandered in. Everyone was covered in blood- I only just noticed Arya and I were soaked in red-  and Watty appeared to be nursing a gunshot wound in his shoulder.  We waited in silence for a few more moments before I let my worry bubble up to my mouth. “Where is Edmund…?” I asked quietly, noticed he and Lommy were still missing.

“Here.” He dragged himself out of the shadow, his face pale as a White Walker’s skin. His grey eyes were rimmed with red, like he was holding in tears. Something was very, very wrong. I ran, placing my hands on his face. His eyes closed and I saw wetness beginning to cling to his eyelashes.

“Ed?” I prompted gently, panic starting to well in my chest.

“It’s Lommy.” Edmund’s voice was rough, “He’s… he’s dead.” A ripple of shock went through the group and I pulled Edmund in for a hug. “He was shot… right in the head. I saw him fall.”

“Shhhhh.” I rocked Edmund carefully, “It’s not your fault.” Was all I could offer. My mind was racing- my friend was dead, but I felt sickly grateful that it wasn’t my brother who was shot. Selfishly, I thanked the gods that it was not Lommy here, holding me.

“Melly, Lucy, Watty.” Gendry spoke, his voice thick, “Bring the Jeeps around. Lem, Jack...go… go get Lommy’s body, we’ll take it back with us. Edmund...go with Lucy and them for protection. Arya and I can gather the artillery on our own.”

Everyone knew that Edmund wasn’t necessary for protection, that he would be far more useful somewhere else. Everyone also knew that this was Gendry’s way of dismissing him, of letting him process what had just happened; sending him away so he didn’t have to stare at Lommy’s empty eyes and agonize over every detail, wondering if he could have saved him. Losing someone on a raid was horrible- having it be your partner on the raid was torture.

  
I had never been so grateful to someone in my entire life as I was to Gendry in that moment. I pulled Edmund by the hand and we set off to where we hidden the Jeeps, deep in the forest.


	4. Wasted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone says goodbye to Lommy and Arya has a few too many

****

**Arya: Wasted**

****

**_I like us better when we’re wasted_ **

**_It makes it easier to say it_ **

****  
  


The ceremony was short, everyone gathered over the small grave. Lommy wasn’t the first man to die on a raid, but he was the youngest- barely a man. Everyone had cried, even I had felt a few tears prick my eyes, though I hadn’t wept since I was twelve, weeks after my family had been killed.

I watched Lucy turn to Edmund and Peter; both brothers surrounded their sister with comfort- my heart gave a tug for Robb, Jon and Bran. I missed my brothers; it was almost easier with Robb, knowing he was gone. When it came to my missing brothers, it was a constant struggle between hope and despair always raged in the back of my mind. I thanked the gods that at least I knew my littlest brother was safe (or as safe as he could be in this world) as I watched Rickon wrap his small arms around a sobbing Hot Pie.

I felt a warm arm come around my shoulder and a familiar scent fill my head. Without thinking about it, I wrapped my arms around Gendry’s waist and burying my head in the crook of his neck. He tensed slightly under my touch but he quickly wrapped his arms around me, rubbing  his hands softly up and down my back. I had never realize how much I actually enjoy being held until the brief moment I’m in someone’s arms: embraced by Lucy’s hugs, squeezed by Edmund’s tackles or wrapped in Gendry’s comfort. They were moments that reminded me affection wasn’t girly, it was...nice.

I pulled back, giving Gendry a weak smile. He returned it, his blue eyes crinkling (I wanted to kick myself for noticing that; I wasn’t Sansa, I didn’t notice boy’s eyes or faces or lips...). Then Lucy was by my side, her brothers in tow. She had a tense smile on, looking intently between Gendry and I. Before I could question her about it, Harwin’s voice rippled through the heavy air, “Everyone inside- I don’t know about you, but I want to talk about Lommy’s great life, not his shitty death.” A few cheers went up and everyone shuffled inside, leaving Lommy’s grave behind in the sunset.

Harwin had pulled a few bottles out of storage. The Brotherhood rarely drank, saving it when someone had passed or a new member had joined (though we drank much heavier on the former occasion).  I settled myself next to Lucy, allowing her to nestle her head into my shoulder for just a moment before glasses were handed to us. Whiskey was poured and everyone took the drink, even Gendry (though I knew it would be the only one of the night- Robert had been an alcoholic, which was enough to make Gendry avoid drinking as a whole), murmuring “To Lommy”. I savored the burn and poured Lucy and myself another. I downed this glass too and poured myself a third, ignoring the surprised look Lucy sent me before she wandered off to check on Edmund.

Lommy’s face was swimming in front of my eyes. I could see his eyes shining bright and every freckle that dusted his nose. He had been snarky and a bit bratty, but he had also been kind. He and Hot Pie had bullied Lucy and I when we first arrived  and had only stopped after I slammed my fist into Hot Pie’s stomach and threatened to break Lommy in half. We had all became pretty good friends after that. And now Lommy was dead.  I poured another drink. Then another.

Hours past, people passing the bottles and trading memories about Lommy. I kept silent and to myself, knowing that I would cry if I tried to tell stories. I just kept drinking, letting my body grow heavy and my mind go numb. I realized Lucy had disappeared, probably off to bed. Bed. That seemed like a good idea.

I stood and instantly regretted it, slumping back in my chair. Without realizing it, I had gotten myself too drunk to walk properly. I could either stumble to my room and face a storm of mockery for it later, or keep drinking and pass out on the floor, which I would also never hear the end of. Then, warm hands were tucking under my knees and back and I was being lifted out of the chair. That wonderful scent of Gendry filled my nose and I wanted to fall into it; I nuzzled into his chest, muttering a thick “Thank you.” He made a noncommittal hum and I felt the vibrations under my fingertips and cheek. He carried me in silence until down the hall, carefully opening my door with the hand that was tucked under my knees.

It was near black inside, only lit by the string lights Lucy and I had put up after our first raid. Soft sighs told me Lucy was already fast asleep and thanks to the liquor, she would sleep like a rock. Why that thought made me giddy, I didn’t know. It was probably the whiskey. Gendry strode over to my side of the room silently; he pulled the nest of blankets off my bed and set me down gently. I blinked up sleepily at him as he pushed a stray hair behind my ear, a soft smile on his face, before bending down to retrieve the blankets and tuck them around me.

During a raid, during training, it was easy to ignore my feelings for Gendry. To shove it to the back of my mind and growl insults at the bull-headed boy- bull-headed man. But now, when he was being so kind to me, when he was smiling at me like that, the warm feeling in my chest was hard to overlook. My eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as his lips brushed my forehead ever so softly. “Goodnight, Arya.” He turned to leave. I didn’t want him to go.I gave into that thought and grabbed his hand.

“Please.” I asked, my voice thick from whiskey and carefully buried emotions, “Stay with me?” I could tell my request surprised him as he was only able to stare at our clasped hands for a moment. I don’t know why I asked him, I just hadn’t wanted him to leave. I couldn’t bear  the thought of being alone tonight.

I could usually tell he was thinking, but at that moment, I was completely clueless to his thoughts. Then he sighed softly before crawling into bed next to me, his form sinking into my mattress like it belonged there. He pulled me into his arms, tucking my head into his chest. He was so warm and smelt so good, it was making my head spin. Or maybe it was the whiskey- how much had I drank?

I found I no longer cared when Gendry’s fingers began to trail my spine, like they had at Lommy’s funeral. It was such a small gesture- I bet he didn’t even think twice about it- but it stirred something in my stomach. I snuggled into his side and before I could think of the consequences, I pressed my lips to the stubble on his chin. He froze, and I peered under my lashes up at his face. We simply stared at each other for an endless moment, blue boring into gray. Then we were only a breath apart- had he move or I? It no longer mattered when I felt the faintest brush of his lips over mine.

And just when it would have become a kiss, he pulled back with a frustrated sigh. He threw his body back onto my bed, his arm over his eye. “You’re drunk.” The words seemed to physically pain him.

“Yes.” I was, “And I want to kiss you.”

“Arya…” My name was a groan on his soft lips. I grabbed his arm gently, removing it from his eyes, forcing him to look at me.

“Gendry.” I whispered, trying to keep the small whine out of my voice, “I want to kiss you.”

He stared at me and I could tell he was arguing with himself about something, but once again I found myself clueless to his inner thoughts. “Arya.” He said, his voice lower than normal. More hesitant...and huskier. “If you still want to kiss me in the morning, when you’re sober, you can.”

I resisted the urge to growl in frustration and I considered his words; I didn’t think it would be that hard to sway Gendry into kissing me now but...sorrow and liquor could be a deadly combination. Did I really want this? Yes. But I also knew Gendry, he would regret kissing me in this state- he’d think he was taking advantage of me, no matter how much I would try to convince him otherwise.

Slowly, I nodded, agreeing to his offer. “But don’t go.”

Gendry pulled me into his chest, his fingers resuming their path up and down my back. “I won’t. Goodnight.” He kissed my hair and I quickly shot my head up to catch his lips with mine. I couldn’t help it; I had worked up the courage to make a move and by the gods old and new, I was going to kiss Gendry at least once. Despite his earlier protest, his lips caressed mine for a few glorious moments before he pulled back, a forced scowl on his face, “Arya.”

“Okay, okay!” I laughed softly, tucking my head into his neck, “I’ll behave.”

**  
**Before I drifted to sleep, I heard him chuckle. “The day Arya Stark behaves is the day the seven hells freeze over.”


	5. Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy gives Arya some much needed advice.

**Lucy: Valentine**

**_I had to sit back, listen to poetry all day_ **

**_I tried to escape, but they won’t let me run away_ **

The first thing I register was the hangover pounding through my body, having taken over for the alcohol that diluted my bloodstream some hours before. The second was that there was an one more set of lungs breathing than there should be in this room.

It sounds like a crazy thing to notice, but when you’re trained to notice everything because missing the tiniest thing can cost you your life, then noticing the  details becomes second nature. And when a situation you deal with everyday is suddenly different, then that extra set of lung may as well be a gunshot in an already silent room.

I shot up in bed, my body instantly punishing me for doing so, and whipped to face Arya’s bed. She was sound asleep, completely unharmed...being spooned by Gendry.

...What the fuck happened after I went to bed last night?

I had seen that Arya was drinking rather heavily, but Gendry had promised to keep an eye on her so I could watch Edmund. He had been in rough shape, but he had been able to  stop blaming himself after a few days. After I was sure he was safe with Peter and Lem, I must have found my way to bed instead of my way to Gendry: I had some questions for him about Arya.

His reactions to my accusation, his fierce protectiveness of her: he was in love with her, that much I knew. But I wanted to know how this had happened? When this had happened? How none of us had noticed and most importantly, what was he going to do about it. I glanced over at the sleeping couple and had to stifle a laugh, “This was a start, I guess.”

So Gendry had clearly helped her to bed, like I knew he would. What I didn’t know, or even remotely expect was him to spend the night cuddled up with her. As my dad used to say, it was entirely out of left field (or something like that, I never really understood his sport metaphors). Gendry would never push himself on Arya- drunk or sober- and certainly never overstep his bounds by staying uninvited. I doubt that thought had even occurred to him- he respected her far too much for that.The only conclusion that I could draw was that Arya must have asked him to stay last night.

That was a new development.

I knew she harbored feelings for Gendry but shoved them aside, like all her feelings. I don’t mean that Arya was heartless- she had a huge heart- she just...wasn’t good with her emotions. We had always been “a bit off”-as my mother used to say- never really in tune with the whole “crush” thing or anything remotely related to boys, beside wanting to play games with our brothers. And though she was younger, I wasn’t ashamed to admit that Arya was the tougher of us. She detested the thought of weakness and to her, emotions and weakness were the same thing.

Arya groaned and rolled over, tucking herself into Gendry’s chest. She lay peacefully for a moment before her mind cleared and she realized someone was in her bed. Her breathing quickened and she suddenly stiffened. I knew she was wide awake now and her reflexes would not treat this unexpected situation well.

I was correct; Arya gave a small yelp, waking Gendry, and gave his chest a hard enough shove that he slammed back into the wall and she flew back onto the floor. Gendry sat up in bed, staring wide eyed at Arya, who had propped herself on her elbows, her facial expression echoing Gendry’s. They stared at each other for a moment before Arya looked over at me. Only then did I realize my jaw was hanging open wide enough to catch a billion flies. Gendry looked between the two of us before averting his eyes to the clock. “Oh shit.” He bolted to his feet, “I’m late. Harwin’s going to murder me.” He made to rush out of the room but paused in the doorway to cast a glance at Arya.

They stared for a moment and I felt like I was intruding into something I couldn’t begin to understand. Gendry clearly wanted to say something, anything to clear the air, but his voice seemed to fail him. It was Arya who broke the moment, “You’re no use to us dead, you bull-headed boy. Go, run before Harwin pops that giant vein in his head.”

Gendry smiled and gave a false shudder, “I hate that thing.” With that he was gone.

I turned to Arya but she held up her hand before I could utter a single syllable. “Not a word, Lucy. Not one word.” She took a deep breath, “At least not yet. I need a minute to gather information from my drunken alter-ego. Apparently she made some interesting decisions last night.” Arya sighed and dropped her head between her legs.

We sat in silence for several minutes before Arya finally looked up at me. “On a scale of ‘ehhh to oh fucking shit’ how badly did I fuck up?”

I couldn’t help but giggle a bit, causing Arya to give me a look that was muddled between offense and confusion. “Arya. I don’t even think you’re on that scale.” I explained, “I think its the scale of ‘not bad to best fucking idea ever’...and it’s pretty high up there.”

Arya stared at me blankly and then let out a dry bark of laughter, “You’re still drunk. Or you know I fucked up royally but don’t want to tell me.”

“Arya.” Slid off the bed, plopping next to her on the floor. “You didn’t fuck up.”

“Yeah, I did Luce. Everything between Gendry and I is going to be fucked up because…”She bit her lip, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. I was taken back- Arya never blushed. “I...kissed him, Lucy. We kissed.” She looked up for my reaction, which I’m sure didn’t disappoint her. Shock was surely all over my face. If Gendry and her cuddling was out of left field, than this wasn’t even in the fucking ballpark. “And everything is going to be messed up because of it.”

I paused for a moment, wondering how I could explain what I knew to her and more importantly, how to get her to believe me. Growing up with two beautiful sister, boys always used to be sweet to us to get on Sansa or Susan’s good side. I remembered when Arya had gotten her first- and only (besides Gendry)- crush. It was on a boy named Micha, who was always more than willing to play with her at recess. Later she found out he only played with her because he was in love with Sansa. She was crushed.

It was a feeling I had experienced over and over; it never got any easier and it hurt more and more each time. So the idea that someone, someone she liked, Gendry, could love her, it seemed impossible to her. Sansa had boys fawning over her, not Arya. Susan had boys knocking at the door, not me.

Arya was looking at me, her eyes begging for guidance. I was only two years older than her, but people had always told me I had “a wisdom” about me. People years older than me came to me for advice, but Arya seemed almost dependant on my advice.

“Arya...talk to him about it.”

“That’s a no.” She shook her head fiercely; Arya wasn’t afraid of anything, but she looked absolutely terrified now. I guess feelings were her kryptonite. “I just...that would be so uncomfortable Lucy!”

“Maybe not...well no, okay, it will be uncomfortable. But it has to happen.” I put my arm around her, “If you don’t, he’s going to take that as rejection.”

“Rejection?!” Arya snorted, “I don’t understand. He’ll be mad I rejected him instead of him rejecting me? Why does it matter? Why can’t we just never talk about it and mutually reject each other?!?!” Her voice had gone surprisingly high-pitched.

“Arya.” I shook her slightly, “You need to breathe.” She took a shaky breath and made to rant again; I gave her another small shake, “Breathe. In and Out.” She followed my directions, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. “Why does there have to be any rejection, Arya?”

“Wha-what do you mean?” She sounded so small; like all her bravery, and snarkiness and cleverness had shrunk back into her small frame. For the first time, she was not the fierce She-Wolf I knew, but a five-foot, four-inch sixteen year old girl who was in love for the first time. And completely terrified.

“Arya. Do you want to reject him?”

“What? Why does that matter when he doesn’t want-”

“He’s not going to reject you.” I had to let out a small look as the confused and accusatory scowl crossed her features again, “That boy is crazy about you.”

“That’s not funny Lucy.”Arya suddenly shot up and stormed across the room. “This is why I didn’t tell you I liked him, but you’d spent all your time trying to convince me that he likes me when I know he doesn’t. He’s the youngest rebellion leader, a huge deal at twenty years old. Who am I?”

“You are Arya. The best fighter of the rebellion who’s made a name for herself at sixteen. You are fierce and beautiful and Gendry is in love with you!” I was yelling now, “Why do you think he’s so protective of you? Goddamnit Arya, open your fucking eyes.”

“I’m done with this lovey-dovey shit. Because that’s what it is- absolute  shit.” She made to storm from the room, but for once in my life, I was quicker than her. I threw my body after her, grabbing her before she could fully open the door. “Lucy! What the fuck!”

I took a deep breath but didn’t loosen my grip on her, “You have run away from your emotions your entire life. But not this time.” She yanked herself out of my grip, huffing annoyed but stood her ground instead of leaving. “Arya. Gendry is in love with you. If you can just admit to yourself that you love him too and go fucking talk to him! But...if you don’t...if you ignore him, then he’s going to take that as rejection and then everything really will be ruined.”

Arya glared at me, grinding her teeth together. Then she let out a heavy sigh, “You know, I really fucking hate it when you’re right.”

**  
**I resisted the urge to throw a victorious fist in the air and settled for an encouraging smile instead, “I know you do. Now go talk to Gendry.” She nodded and turned to go, but not before I noticed she the mildly terrified look that crossed her face. “Arya.” She looked back at me, “Breathe.” I reminded gently. She gave me a weak smile before she was gone.


	6. Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry get a chance to speak about last night.

 

** Arya: Wolf **

_**I would kill to be the cold** _

_**Tracing your body and shaking your bones** _

I walked quickly through the hallways, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone I passed. Who knew who had seen Gendry carry me to my room last night or leave my room this morning? I could feel my cheeks heating up at the mere thought of Peter or Harwin teasing me. Oh gods, what if Rickon had heard? He may have been my baby brother, but at nine years old her already knew what sex was (Lem had made sure of that) but wasn’t old enough to understand that a boy and girl could sleep together without sleeping together. Rickon idolized Gendry, what would this do to their relationship?

 

 _Fuck their relationship_ , a more vicious part of me thought, _what about your relationship with him? Can you imagine being Gendry’s girlfriend?_

 

Yes.

I had imagined it a thousand times. But never in this life, never based in reality. It was always if the Wall had never fallen, if Robert had never died. Hell, I had even had a dream where I had been a Lord’s daughter and he had been a blacksmith (that one had been very strange). But I had never thought I’d be with Gendry is this life, in this reality. The world was falling apart around us every second, to be romantically involved..in..love, it seemed too selfish.

 

I had been so caught up in my inner monologue that I didn’t realize I had reached the meeting room. I peered inside, seeing just Gendry and Harwin. The meeting must have ended just moments ago, which I was grateful for. I didn’t need the leaders of Hollow Hill to see the embarrassment scarring my face. I waited quietly, looking sheepishly through the doorway until I caught Gendry’s eye. Unfortunately, his face turned bright red and Harwin turned to see what had caused Gendry to blush to violently. I gave an awkward half wave and I could tell Harwin was struggling not to laugh. Asshole. To my surprise, he said nothing, only nodded at me, clasped Gendry on the shoulder and strolled casually out of the room.

 

My eyes flitted between Gendry and the ground as I inched my way inside the doorway. We stood in an unbearably awkward silence for a few seconds before I offered an unusually soft, “Hi.”

 

“Hi.” He offered back with a soft smile. The silence between us grew thick again and suddenly his words from the previous night floated back _“If you still want to kiss me in the morning, when you’re sober, you can…”_ His words clouded my mind.. _.oh fuck it._ I rushed forward, throwing myself into his arms. He seemed to have expected this, or at least hoped this would happen, for he caught me and wrapped me in his arms. Our lips crashed together harshly and more violently than I meant, but I couldn’t find the will to care as his hands stroked my lower back, pressing me impossibly closer to him. One of his hands trailed around my waist, up over my collarbones, tickling my neck softly before cupping my face, placing just enough pressure on my cheek to force my kisses to be more gentle.

 

As a girl, I remembered Sansa and Susan talking about kisses and how wonderful it felt when his lips softly brushed over yours. I remembered thinking they were stupid- granted, I had never kissed someone at that point- but I had always thought that passionate kisses would be far better. I never understood until this moment that passionate and soft could go hand in hand. Gendry’s lips were gentle against mine but I could feel his desire in the press of his lips, the grip of his hands on my neck and lower back.

 

Suddenly his lips were gone from mine and were nipping at my neck. I couldn’t help but gasp; he seemed to easily keep me at bay last night, but I now realized just how much restraint he must have had. He stopped his flutter of kiss to simply nuzzle his head into my neck; I clung to his shoulders and inhaled his scent. I could hardly believe this was real...

 

“Gendry…” I spoke quietly, “What does...I mean…”

 

“I don’t know.” He admitted, understanding what I was attempting to stutter out. He pulled back, not out of the embrace, but enough that he look me in the eyes. “Arya...I’m crazy about you, I have been since we were kids and you shoved me over for calling you milady.” I felt a smile stretch across my face at the memory. “And if were then, or things weren’t so fucked up, I’d ask you to be my girlfriend.” Gendry continued, “But the world is unbelievably fucked up, and I don’t think things like boyfriends and girlfriends have a place in it anymore.”

 

My smiled dropped and I furrowed my brow. What is he even talking about...and why does it feel insulting? “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say Gendry.”

 

“Neither do I, I guess.”

 

“That doesn’t really help…” I felt myself becoming irrationally angry- at him, at myself, at this fucked up world.

 

"Arya..." He said cautiously as his grip tightened on my hips; I'm sure he could sense the growing turmoil in my mind. Lucy once said I was a closed book, except when it came to anger. _"It comes off of you in waves," she said softly, "Radiating from you from your core out to the edges of the earth."_

 

I could count the number of people who were able calm my fury down on one hand- my dad, Jon, Lucy, and (thankfully, in this moment), Gendry. The red receded from my vision as I breathed deeply. When I spoke again, I was surprised how thick and raw my voice sounded, "This fucking sucks."

 

"Yeah." Gendry sighed as he pulled my body snug against his, my head tucking into the curve of his shoulder. I burrowed into the scent of his neck. "How about...we just be us? Arya and Gendry, like we've always been?" He offered softly. I ignored the flash of hurt (was I really offended that he didn't want to call me his girlfriend? I'm being ridiculous... Worse, I'm acting like Sansa) and nodded into his neck before adding "But we the version of us that makes out, right?"

 

The tension broke as Gendry burst out laughing, his whole body shaking in our embrace. I shot him a sly smile and he nodded "Yes, stupid."

 

"Hey, only I'm allowed to call you that."

 

"That seems like a double-standard."

  
"Get used to it."

**Author's Note:**

> This work is also published on fanfiction, by me. (aka no one is stealing my work)


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